


It Was a Dark and Stormy Night.

by theatergirl06



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: F/F, Parrelyn, Parrleyn - Freeform, Seriously can't we just agree already?, Why do people spell this ship 3 different ways?, parrlyn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theatergirl06/pseuds/theatergirl06
Summary: Two girlfriends decide to have a murder mystery movie night, but nothing is exactly as it seems.Also known as a bunch of Parrlyn banter followed by some angst and then some fluff:)
Relationships: Anne Boleyn/Catherine Parr
Comments: 9
Kudos: 64





	It Was a Dark and Stormy Night.

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Mentions of gunshots, death threats, and murder. Also thunderstorms.

“It was a dark and stormy night. Suddenly, a shot rang out!” Anne Boleyn leaned back dramatically, flinging her hand up in the air before clutching it to her chest and gasping for air. “The wind howled outside the windows of the dark house. The young princess clutched her chest in pain, and then…” she looked right into Cathy’s eyes, “and then she  _ died _ !”

She fell to the floor, sticking her tongue out in imitation of the dead emoji.

There was a second of silence.

And then the second queen burst into laughter.

Across the room, Cathy rolled her eyes, though there was a smile flickering over her lips. “ _ That’s  _ what you think my writing looks like? No wonder you’ve never shown any interest.”

“What do you mean?!  _ That  _ was  _ intriguing  _ and  _ brilliant _ !”

“Sure, if you like generic plots.”

“Come  _ on _ !”

“I’m not kidding. Murder mysteries are overdone,  _ especially  _ with beginnings like that, and even if by some chance it has a decent beginning, it’s nearly always ruined by the fact that the detective in the story makes idiotic choices and never solves the mystery as fast as the reader.”

“You can solve mysteries before the detectives in stories?”

A blush passed over Cathy’s face; it was nearly undetectable, but it was there. “Um...yeah. All the time.”

Anne grinned and sat up on the floor. She was lucky they were alone in the apartment and not in public, because she most definitely would’ve gotten some stares for her little dramatic interpretation. Then again, she probably wouldn’t have cared. 

“Babe, that’s  _ sick _ !”

Cathy blushed even deeper. “It’s not as cool as that thing you do when you heely backwards and manage not to run into things.”

“That’s nothing. I could teach you if you really wanted.”

“No thanks. I like to keep all my bones intact, if you don’t mind.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “Quite the comedian.”

“Says the girl who just acted out the opening scene to every murder mystery on our living room floor.”

“I deserve an Olivier for that performance!”

“I’m sure you think you do.”

Anne grinned as she bounced off the floor and onto the couch. It wasn’t often that she and Cathy had the whole apartment to themselves. For that matter, it wasn’t often that there were less than four queens in the apartment at a time (unless they were all out). But tonight, everyone seemed to have other plans. Jane had been called to a press event in Scotland for the weekend, and had brought Catherine with her. Kat was playing a gig at a local pub, Anna had gone to watch her (and take a video, though Kat had told her not to), and the two of them were going rollerskating afterwards.

Anne had offered to go with them, but Cathy had promised her a horror movie if she stayed home, and how could she refuse a movie night with her girlfriend?

Of course, they’d already tried about ten different movies, but they’d forgotten how picky they were. Anne didn’t like movies that “claimed to be scary but weren’t” as she put it, and none of the movies that she deemed scary enough were interesting enough for Cathy because the plots were “so generic she could write them in her sleep.”

Of course, this had prompted Anne to ask her what made her writing less generic.

To which Cathy had responded with, “What do you know? You don’t know what I write!”

And Anne, of course, had said “Sure I do! I can prove it!”

And then she’d begun to act out the murder mystery.

“You know, if you want to criticize my performance, we should at least have a real murder mystery to compare it to.”

“Is this you trying to get me to finish a movie without spoiling the ending?”

“You  _ always  _ say what’s going to happen next!”

“ _ You  _ yell at the characters on the screen!”

“Only when they’re about to do something really dumb!”

“Movie characters are never  _ not  _ being dumb!”

There was a pause. Thunder rumbled outside the windows. Anne hadn’t even realized it was raining. 

“Fair enough.”

Anne grinned, grabbing Cathy around the shoulders and pulling her onto the sofa. “Does that mean we get to watch a murder mystery and you won’t tell me who the killer is before we find out?”

Another pause.

“...It means we get to watch a murder mystery.”

“Cathyyyy…”

“What? It’s not my fault they can’t solve it!”

“ _ Fine,  _ you can tell me who the killer is. But if you’re wrong, I get to make out with you.”

“You were going to make out with me anyway.”

“But if it goes this way, it’s more fun because I get to tease you the whole time.”

“That doesn’t sound more fun.”

“I meant more fun for  _ me. _ ”

“ _ Oh _ that makes so much more sense. I was confused before.” Cathy plopped down on the couch next to Anne, grabbing the remote and pointing it at the television. Anne laughed, wrapping her arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders and planting a kiss on her forehead. 

Cathy’s face turned deep pink, but she was smiling. Anne loved the way she looked when she smiled. She always looked as though she’d just discovered the most wonderful thing in the universe.

The sixth queen soon turned her attention to the television and began scrolling through the long list of murder mysteries.

“What looks good to you?”

“No idea. They all look the same.”

“That’s because they  _ are  _ all the same.”

“I thought you said no complaining!”

“Mmhmm, I most definitely do not remember saying that, darling. You’re fantasizing.”

“Like you fantasize things when you’ve had too much coffee?”

“That giant shrimp was actually there!”

“Right. That makes complete sense.”

“Because _ you _ always make complete sense.”

“Hey, I never said I did.”

“Let’s watch this one. I bet it doesn’t make any sense, either.”

“I still get something if you can’t guess the murderer.”

“What could you possibly want?”

“I don’t know yet. I can use the movie to think about it.”

“Come on. If you’re making me watch a murder mystery, then you have to actually watch the murder mystery yourself.”

Anne sighed, slumping against the back of the couch. “Fair enough.”

And so the murder mystery began. 

It was, as they’d expected, very generic. It focused on a dashing male lead, down on his luck, who came across a pretty girl to help him out, they solved a murder, drank a lot of wine, and fell in love.

After five minutes, Anne already had a running commentary going, but Cathy barely seemed to hear her. Her eyes were laser focused on the screen, and they had the  _ I’m figuring something out  _ look.

For a second, Anne forgot what was happening on the screen, because yes, Cathy looked  _ that  _ cute when she was figuring something out. Honestly, could you blame her?

They were about three quarters of the way through the movie and nearing the climax (the gorgeous assistant was being held hostage by a masked villain,  _ how terrifying _ ), when Cathy’s head snapped out of her haze.

Anne smirked. “Welcome back, stranger. Where’ve you been?”

Cathy rolled her eyes. “Nowhere. Just solving a murder. You know, like normal people do.”

“But  _ we,  _ dearest girlfriend, are  _ not  _ normal people.”

“No, we certainly aren’t.” Cathy rolled her eyes as she glanced back at the screen. “This movie would be much more interesting if that assistant turned out to be a badass and saved her boyfriend.”

“He’s not even her boyfriend yet.”

“Really? They’re clearly going to fall in love.”

“Even if he were, if she saved him, that would mean we couldn’t make fun of that cliché.”

“Somehow I think we’d managed to find something else to make fun of. We always do.”

Anne turned her eyes back to the television. The masked figure was confronting the assistant.    
“So who’s the killer?”

Cathy sipped the tea that they’d made about halfway through the movie. “It’s the best friend.”

“Really? He seems like an idiot.”

“Exactly. It’s always the person you least expect.”

“Is it obvious?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“You’d have noticed, too, if you hadn’t been so busy with your commentary.”

“I think my commentary is enlightening.”

“I’m sure it is.”

Thunder crackled outside the apartment building. On the screen, the killer slowly pulled off the mask.

Cathy’s mouth dropped open.

“ _ No _ .”

“What?”

“It’s the friend’s  _ brother _ ?”

“Yeah babe, that’s...what it says.” Anne started to laugh, but all the laughter drained out of her the second she saw Cathy’s face.

She wore an expression of pure shock. There was no trace of the playfulness from earlier that night.    
Anne grabbed the remote and switched off the television. “Hey, Cathy, you alright?”

Cathy turned to look at Anne, and only then did Anne realize that her hands were shaking. She clasped Cathy’s hands in hers and held them still.

“What’s wrong?”

Cathy stared straight into Anne’s eyes.

“I was wrong.”

Anne laughed nervously. “Yeah, most people are at one point or another. I know I am  _ all the time. _ ”

“But I  _ can’t _ .”

“Cathy, you know it’s okay to make mistakes, right?”

“But mine...I was so wrong...about  _ everything _ .”

Anne saw a tear trickle down her girlfriend’s face. She clearly wasn’t entirely in the present anymore, but she wasn’t in the past, either. More like some faraway mental space of self-loathing.

“About what?”

A shudder escaped Cathy’s lips. “I dunno. Married the wrong guy four times. They died. Then I got married to the king because he murdered an innocent teenager and I didn’t do anything.”

“How could you? You weren’t even anywhere near them!”

“But it gets worse. I married the love of my life and he turned out to hurt me and innocent teenagers. Seeing a pattern here?”

“Cathy, what happened with Thomas was complicated, but I forgave you. We’ve all done bad things, and none of us meant to hurt anyone.”

“But that girl…”

“The assistant from the movie?”

“She’s young. And innocent. And that man is going to hurt her, just like Henry and Thomas hurt Kat and Elizabeth because I was wrong! I can’t make that mistake again! I’ve already ruined so much, I can’t ruin anything else!”

Anne wrapped her arms around her before she could say anything else.

“Cathy, you could never ruin anything.”

“But…”

“No buts. You didn’t kill those girls by being there. You made some mistakes. We all have. But you made their lives better by being a part of them.” Anne gently pressed her lips to her girlfriend’s hand. “Just like you do for me.”

Cathy smiled through her tears, starting to look a little stronger. “That’s a cliché, you know.”

“Sometimes clichés are good.”

“Like falling in love and having a girlfriend to catch you when you fall.”

Anne felt her face grow hot. “I’ll always catch you when you fall.”

“Me too. It’s why your heelys haven’t killed you yet.”

Anne laughed. “Are you sure it’s not because of my insane heelying skills?”

“I’m not positive, no.”

Anne sighed, leaning against the back of the couch and putting her arm around Cathy’s shoulders once again. “We’re gonna make it, aren’t we? You and me? Through the storms and the mistakes and the crying?”

Cathy leaned her head on Anne’s shoulder. “Yeah, Anne. I think we are.”


End file.
